A cool breezy night [open RP]

[As Harlekeen, check the page in Char.Creation for more info]


Steam rose from the manholes in the street mingled with the smoke from Harlekeen's cigarette. The lithe youth sashayed his way over the street towards Happy Harry's, accompanied by two wiry figures. The three were dressed in "blacks", stage terms for loose-fitting black pants and teeshirts. All of them were wearing masks, decadent gold and silk laced things that stood out glaringly against the mundane grey backdrop of the street at night. They were giggling, and Harlekeen's two sidekicks seemed jovially dismayed.


"Oh, we're not going in there, are we Harly?" Said one at his right, tugging at his sleeve gently. The casual observer couldn't tell the gender of the speaker, thanks to the mask and the slight frame.

"Yeah, it looks a complete drag. Like what I had for lunch...after I ate it!" Said the one to his left. The pair of them burst into fits of unnatural laughter at the lame pun. They were clearly already drunk or...something.

Harlekeen only smiled.

"We are going in there I'm afraid, my loyal cohorts. It will be a most ironic experience for us all, a character building excersise. Besides, aren't you interested in seeing the local hangout of the infamous Rorshach and Night Owl?"

The two masked companions seemed dubious at this, but again the casual observer couldn't make a distinct judgement thanks to the masks. And there just so happened to be a casual observer. In fact there were two. Men whom could only be described as grunts were looking at the oncoming threesome with disgust. As they approached the door, the local guys sneered.

"F'ckin fags." One muttered just loud enough to be heard. Harlekeen's entourage ignored the comment and hustled on, opening the door, but the man himself stopped.

"Oh no. Harly...don't. C'mon..."

The red and gold-masked youth was frozen, staring ahead at the door, directly to the left of the man who had insulted the group. Making a slow, deliberate turn on his heel, his dark eyes became fixated on the overweight but still burly meatneck.

"Sonnuva...you gonna make somethin of that, fag?!" Swore the large man in disbelief. His mouth open agape, beady eyes glaring at the masked youth, his left paw curled up into a fist. His equally large companion shuffled up behind him in support. "Make him, Jim." Urged the man behind the first. This was, apparantly, all the encouragement "Jim" needed. Lifting his tattooed arm, he flung a punch at Harlekeen, uttering a grunted curse at the same time. The blow never connected.

With unexpected speed, the youth flitted to the right side of Jim's extended arm. Harlekeen grabbed the hairy limb and pulled, encouraging the man's already forward travelling momentum. Falling forward, it took only the masked performer's outstretched well tailored-shoe to trip the doomed Jim down onto the pavement. Falling hard and rolling, Jim never had time to recover as Harlekeen's other well-tailored shoe struck a kick across his chubby features. As small droplets of blood pattered the sidewalk and Jim rolled to a halt, an expensive heel was placed across Jim's fat and heaving neck.

"Don't! Harly, come on. You said we were just going for a drink this time!"

Pausing, the youth froze, in mid-step onto the now petrified Jim's sweaty neck. Looking down at his fallen opponent, his dark eyes glittered behind the mask. Suddenly, Harlekeen skipped away and into the doors of Harry's.

"Excellent! Time for tequilas! Think they do cocktails in this dump?"

With that, Harlekeen breezed past his friends, pushed open the doors of the bar and darted inside.

He lit a ciggarete with a flourish, taking in a deep breath and exhaling the smoke. Henry Barkly, looked like a normal person tonight, having left his life at home for a nice simple quiet night for once in his godamned life.

Approaching a spot where his people said was a good bar, Henry summed it up quickly. He had came prepared in case someone recongnized him. He looked around to his left then his right. Also checking the skies.

He walked into the bar. It was smoky and hard to see through. Men were laughing like idiots and woman were blowing each other and others unknown to most.

Henry waved his head no softly, this place was simply crappy. It looked like a can of shit with bunches of maggots sitting and rotting in it's depths.

But it was a place to relax...

Henry took a seat and stared forward. He looked up at the TV and smiled. Reports of a large fire across the street. Hmmmm, his men had done well. Not a bad fire!

Henry looked back as something had caught his eye. Three men, with masks. "Hmmmmph damned supers.".

Henry stood up and got closer to them, he sat down and looked unconspicuous. He said loud enough so that they would hear but facing in a direction so that he would not be known as the one that said it. He said"You boys should really go home, this is a place for men and wouldn't your mommies be worried if you got hurt?".

Henry smirked and waited to see what they would do. he placed his hand inside his pocket and grasped a large butcher knife, one of his most prominent and well known weapons. It was one he had used for years and years and he had practice. Lets see, even if these pansie supers saw him, he would make sure they were dead...

Swanning across the grimey bar and ignoring the dirty looks they were getting, the trio took up fashionable poses at the bar. Anyone would think they were here for a photoshoot.

One of Harlekeen's pals rolled his/her eyes as they were growled at from across the bar.

"Sigh. Harly you're not going to beat him up too, are you?"

The masked man in question flicked his hair at his companion and signalled to Harry, the barman.

"Seems we can't go anywhere for a simple drink anymore...been accosted twice before we've even ordered. Christ. Sad times, my friends. You don't have to be a psychic to know we aren't welcome here. People have mask prejudice."

The other masked figure seemed to have been stumped with the money and paid for three tequilas, looking sourly at the tiny shrivelled pieces of lemon that was handed to him.

"No, him, I am going to ignore, and you both will do the same. I'm thinking we call it an early night... I don't want to spill more native blood than is necessary..." He shined a grin at his companion on his right, and took a shot glass from his companion on the left. Necking the clear sticky liquid, he dismissed the lemon and salt offered to him and instead patted his slacks for his smokes. Finding them, his cigarette was lit by his compatriots.

"Actually...what do you think these people think of masks here? Shall we ask about Rorshach? Hmm...maybe that will get us some...unwanted attention. Maybe we'll ask about the current psychic craze, no? Yes?"

Harlekeen, clearly feeling better after the tequila, looked at his companions eagerly.


EDIT:

Semi-bump

"Hmm...maybe we don't ask about anything. Even ol' Harry here has been looking as white as a sheet since we came in. Maybe Rorshach gave him the willies about people in masks."

The masked youth paused.

"You know there's a cult now in Vietnam dedicated to Dr Manhattan? Seems he made a great impression on the place despite disintegrating a whole load of people. They are keen on him as a god of sorts...sort of wish I'd met him..."

Harlekeen looked around. He wasn't sure what kind of attention his rapport was gathering, but the animal in him didn't care.